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ALT at the Carnegie Hall Tribute for Bill Cunningham

Before cocktail hour began at the fifth annual Carnegie Hall Medal of Excellence gala—this year honoring photographer Bill Cunningham—Lisa Airan, the dermatologist and best dressed of the evening, arrived early to keep yours truly company. She was wearing **Mary Katrantzou’**s fishbowl dress; a beautiful silk, short printed dress that literally had pink fish swimming horizontally across the skirt. On her ears, she wore Jar ear clips made of oxidized aluminum, and on her feet, a pair of velvet Tom Ford sandals. Her nails were also done up in Tom Ford, a shade of lacquer that echoed the color of her shoes. As we discussed the six-hour reading she had just attended of The Great Gatsby at the Public Theater, up the steps came Annette de la Renta, in one of her husband’s black lace columns and a white cashmere coat, followed soon after by Mercedes Bass, who wore a white feather whoosh of an evening gala dress also dreamed up by Mr. de la Renta, who cohosted the evening along with his wife.

The young society swans—Eliza Reed Bolen and Lauren Santo Domingo—were clearly what Bill Cunningham loves to capture in his fashion chronicles each Sunday in The New York Times, as well as in his own private archives covering who knows how many decades. Santo Domingo, who is expecting her second child, showed off her baby bump in a strapless dress that looked like a cloud of sky-blue feathers and paired it with taupe high-heel Louboutins. She was also wearing exquisite earrings (shown off by a combed-back hairdo, caught in a chignon) that seem to be on a permanent loan from her mother-in-law, Beatriz Santo Domingo. Bolen, who had borrowed her own mother’s ruby-and-diamond ear clips, was perfection with her hair combed off the face in a classic society-gal coiffure. Toward the end of the night, as the great Italian tenor Vittorio Grigolo sang “Volare,” his performance was so intense that one of Bolen’s dangling chandeliers suddenly slipped off her ear and fell into her New York cheesecake. Bolen, not missing a beat, simply took her earring, dropped it in a glass of fresh Evian water, and spent the rest of Grigolo’s exceptional concerto rinsing her rubies and wiping them dry with a napkin she borrowed from our seatmate, Heather Watts, while listening intently. I was thrilled by Watts, who shared the beauty of the deep red rose-and-anemone centerpieces with me. “They are popping out of the flowers like butterflies,” she said of the anemones. I also enjoyed another dinner companion, the classical pianist Manuel Bellod, who impressed me with the news of his latest acquisition, a 1883 Steinway rosewood grand piano, which would be arriving at his home the next week.

Dinner was really very good, and that says a lot for a room of pre-plated Caesar salads with prawns. There were baby spring lamb chops (cooked to tender perfection), herb roasted potatoes, creamed spinach, and—of course—that cheesecake, served with apricot coulis.

“Come Dressed for Bill” was the theme of the evening, and nearly $1.5 million dollars was raised for music education at Carnegie Hall. Cunningham, not only photographer, but also author, archivist, humanitarian, journalist, and a man who speaks with the brilliance of William Faulkner and the joy of Mark Twain, should be given his own lecture circuit. His acceptance was one of the most remarkable, and truly heartfelt of any speech I’ve ever experienced in New York. “This city is in its golden period, and all of you are responsible for it. Thank you for giving back to a country that has given us everything.” And with that, he received his second standing ovation.

Annette de La Renta(who chaired the evening along with her husband, Oscar, and Sarah Jessica Parker, who wore a sweeping Edith Wharton–style pale-gray faille gown) rarely makes such a tribute as she did to Cunningham, who she has known for years. When she took to the podium, she spoke of his “grace, discipline, knowledge, discretion; things lacking in today’s world,” which was brought out in the illuminating documentary by Richard Press, Bill Cunningham New York, in which she was featured.

Cunningham, whose every word should be recorded and kept on permanent record in the Library of Congress, was so happy to acknowledge the role the late Brooke Astor played in his life (“Brooke Astor was a miracle,” he said) as well as how de la Renta was a dear friend and surrogate daughter to Mrs. Astor.

He’s lived a privileged life in ways, Mr. Cunningham, but for six decades he lived in a wrenlike space in Carnegie Hall, sleeping between his files and sharing a public bathroom, which made the storied organization all the more fitting for such a tribute. When recalling his past, he spoke of the time he heard Stravinsky’s wonderful Firebird, rushed back to his spare space, took out feathers, (early in his life he was also a hatmaker, whipping up creations for Joan Crawford) and created headpieces that he wanted to photograph on beautiful models. To share that moment, when he achieved a dream, is like listening to a great teacher. “Years ago, I used to photograph women going to lunch at the Colony, or La Côte Basque,” he said, reminding all in the room that times have, indeed, changed. “These days, I jump out of bed and go downtown to photograph women going to work between eight-thirty and nine. That’s marvelous.”